


Delayed Intentions

by iulia_linnea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iulia_linnea/pseuds/iulia_linnea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written on 6 December 2006 in response to <a href="http://soberloki.livejournal.com/profile">soberloki</a>'s prompt of <i>George/Snape: battlefield, coddle, emperor</i>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Delayed Intentions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soberloki](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=soberloki).



> Written on 6 December 2006 in response to [soberloki](http://soberloki.livejournal.com/profile)'s prompt of _George/Snape: battlefield, coddle, emperor_.

"—and I don't think that's what he meant when he asked me to coddle his eggs," George said, apparently concluding some sort of joke as Severus approached him and his brother.

Fred couldn't stop laughing, it seemed, but George turned to greet him with a nod and a "Professor."

"Mr. Weasley," Severus replied, nodding in turn, sweeping George's frame with a minute eye-flick. _Fit_ , he thought, _and polite. An improvement over his school days_. "I'd like to order something from your special catalog."

George straightened, and Severus watched him glance at his suddenly more subdued sibling as if to ask him, "Which 'special catalog'?"

"Something from your Emperor Line."

"Certainly," George replied, flushing a bit as he led Severus toward the back of the shop. "How'd you hear about the uh, the line?"

"Does it matter?" Severus asked, turning to examine some of the cartons to his right. "'Make your bed a battlefield—of love'?" he asked, frowning. "That sort of spell sells?"

George's blush deepened. "We get all kinds in here, sir."

"Such as myself."

"If you like."

"I do," Severus replied, sweeping George's body with his eyes with exaggerated deliberateness.

George tripped over a box backing away, and Severus took the opportunity to rush forth and grasp the younger wizard around his waist.

"Do be careful of your . . . merchandise, Mr. Weasley. I'm most interested in _sampling_ it," Severus told George, staring deeply into his eyes and quite liking the images he found swirling confusedly in his mind. Releasing him, he continued, "The Emperor Line?"

"Right. Yes. Of course," George said, his tone a bit higher than it had been as he began rummaging through the stock. "What . . . what exactly are you looking for?"

"Cock."

This time, George tripped over nothing, and Severus smiled in satisfaction—but George didn't turn around.

"'Cock'?"

"Indeed. A large one, and preferably thick. Something I can animate, if you please."

George didn't move but stood still, his hands resting on either side of the shelf upon which he'd pressed his forehead. Severus could see by the rise and fall of his shoulders that he was trying not to breathe heavily.

 _Excellent_ , he thought, adjusting himself and taking two steps forward so that he could whisper against George's neck, "Is that a _problem_ , Mr. Weasley?"

Shaking now, George stammered, "N—no."

"I think you have a problem. A large one," Severus told George, running a hand down his back. "Probably thick, as well, and definitely one I've animated," he continued, cupping George's arse.

"Oh, gods. Are you . . . are you _trying_ to kill me—sir?"

"Your death is not my objective. Turn around."

George obeyed at once, banging his head into Severus' as he did so. "Oh, sor—"

The kiss was slow, probing, and warm. Severus slid his tongue over George's, under it, around it in lazy loops, and then he sucked it into his own mouth as he seized George's arms and forced them firmly but gently behind his back, thrusting the young man's chest and hips and prick into his own body at all those same points.

 _Yes, definitely an improvement to the boy he once was_ , Severus thought, stepping back abruptly and ending the Obliviation spell he'd been forced to employ on George when he was a randy, clever, nude fifteen-year-old boy and sitting—quite without permission—at the foot of his bed, having broken the wards to Severus' personal quarters. "Do you remember what I told you?"

"Oh. Oh, for—you . . . you really meant it!" George exclaimed.

"I told you I'd see you again when you were of age," Severus replied, sheathing his wand. 

"You're several years _late_ , Severus."

"Consider those years your detention served," the Potions master replied, cupping George's cock through the placket of his trousers and squeezing.

" _Fuck_."

"I intend to."


End file.
